


Not Your Prince (But I’m Your Pretty Boy)

by ImNeitherNor



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A LOT OF PIERCINGS, A lot - Freeform, Bi-sexual Steve, Billy likes to play with his piercings, Cam!Boy Billy, College, Gentle Billy, Hipster Billy, It's 2018 so Billy is okay with himself, M/M, Modern AU, Piercings, Roommates, Steve eventually figures it out, Steve likes to watch, Teasing, Top billy, Virgin Steve, at first, back and forth, gay billy, power bottom Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 01:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14226258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImNeitherNor/pseuds/ImNeitherNor
Summary: “Not desperate,” he told himself, staring at the page while heat crawled up his chest and neck. “So not desperate.” Which was a lie because he was getting a membership just tocommentand view more videos of the guy with the pierced dick. He licked his lips and tapped his thumbs on the space bar, deleted it, and almost hit his forehead against his desk. It was ausername. Why did it matter so fucking much?Christ.





	Not Your Prince (But I’m Your Pretty Boy)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thebilliamhargrove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebilliamhargrove/gifts).



> For my hun, Nico. I asked him for a drabble idea and... and this happened. I'm not sorry, though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

 

 

            It wasn’t that Steve didn’t _know_ he was bisexual. It was that, until college, he didn’t have to face it so… head on. In the little town of Hawkins, he could parade around as straight and successfully hide the fact that hard muscle and the hot brand of a cock against him got him off. No, hiding it had been easy. He had been sure that he was going to be able to _keep_ hiding it in college.

 

            Until he got a good look at his roommate—a hair shorter than him, all bulk with long, curly hair pulled into a messy bun. That wasn’t what made Steve’s toes curl, though. It was his eyes, blue as the ocean and framed by thick, too-long lashes. His lips were a close second, full even when they were spread in a smirk. And the click of his tongue piercing against his teeth? Fucked Steve _up_. He did it a lot, too. While he studied on his bed, while he talked on his cellphone, and while he jacked off, assuming Steve was asleep. When he came, Steve could hear the click and Billy’s startled gasp.

 

            Steve didn’t have a thing for piercings before Billy Hargrove. He also hadn’t wondered what it would feel like to have a piercing like that run over his cock, hot and wet, before he met Billy (or his lips, his tongue, his neck— _anywhere_ ).

 

            “Hey, man. Class ended like. Five minutes ago,” the voice startled Steve, his books dropping off the desk and spilling onto the floor as he jumped. _Fuck_. He had been thinking about Billy’s mouth, _again_ , in class. This was becoming a goddamn problem. He groaned and rubbed his palm over his face. “Y’good?”

 

            “Yeah, yeah.” Steve waved a hand and shifted in his seat. He would have to wait for at least _another_ five minutes before he would be able to get up without embarrassing himself. Son of a _bitch_.

 

***

 

            The one outlet Steve _did_ have was porn. He was still coming to terms with liking guys, with the idea of having a dick inside of him or pinning another guy down (fuck, pinning _Billy_ down) and fucking him. He figured that watching would be easier than _doing_ , even if he turned a little red as he browsed videos. What he found he liked, after perusing and clicking through (and almost falling out of his chair at some of what he saw), was not being able to see who it was. He didn’t want to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, it was because he wanted to imagine it being Billy.

 

            That was how Steve happened upon a webcam site. Off to the right were ‘top earners,’ and Steve paused, felt his chest warm, and clicked on one at random. What opened was simple enough. The camera was zoomed in so the only thing visible was the dip below the guy’s sternum, his abs, the part in his thighs, and his cock—heavy and thick against his stomach. A hand that looked just as strong as his stomach slid down, into view, and Steve’s breath caught as he watched that hand stroke up and then down, brush just barely over his balls, and then continue. His own cock began to fill, pressing against the denim of his jeans, and Steve shifted in his seat to relieve some of the pressure.

 

            The camera managed to pick up the way the guy’s breath caught as his fingers slipped up to the tip and _holy shit_. That was when Steve knew he was done for— _fucked_. A ring with a ball sat at the top of the guy’s cock, unnoticeable until he changed his position just enough to stroke toward the camera. Steve watched, mesmerized, and absently pressed a palm over his own cock. His thighs jumped and he moaned in response.

 

            Steve was going to _kill_ Billy. Thank god the guy had somewhere to be that night because Steve was going to become _intimately_ familiar with whoever xNotYourPrincex was (no matter how red it made his cheeks or how strange he felt when come dripped over his fingers and down his abdomen).

 

            At least, when he slept that night, he didn’t dream about blonde curls and blue eyes, even if he drifted awake with a hard-on and Billy’s name painted on his lips. He noticed immediately that he was alone in the room, though, and stared at the ceiling until he was forced to get up for class.

 

***

 

            Eventually, Steve bought a membership to the webcam site, if _only_ to see more of xNotYourPrincex. He was glad that he had his own bank account, even if his parents wouldn’t actually investigate any of his transactions. They didn’t care enough to. He was sure he could purchase the most expensive, diamond encrusted dick out there and they wouldn’t blink an eye if the vendor’s name was _Giant Dicks for You_.

 

            Steve sat in front of his computer, teeth abusing his lower lip as the username cursor blinked at him. He had _no idea_ what kind of username he should pick, especially considering people left… comments on the webcam videos. He would love to leave comments, but he wasn’t even sure where to start. He had also seen some— _interesting_ —usernames, and while he enjoyed watching, he didn’t want to look _that_ desperate.

 

            He was only a little desperate. A. _Little_.

 

            “Not desperate,” he told himself, staring at the page while heat crawled up his chest and neck. “So not desperate.” Which was a _lie_ because he was getting a membership just to _comment_ and view more videos of the guy with the pierced dick. He licked his lips and tapped his thumbs on the space bar, deleted it, and almost hit his forehead against his desk. It was a _username_. Why did it matter so fucking much? _Christ_.

 

            Then, Steve remembered the first thing Billy had called him when they met on move-in day. The guy had taken one long, slow look over his body, smirked using all of his teeth, and purred out ‘pretty boy’ before cackling and walking away.

 

            After typing in ‘xYourPrettyBoyx,’ Steve clicked “submit” and let out a sharp exhale.

 

***

 

 

            Getting access to _all_ xNotYourPrincex’s videos was the right fucking decision. Steve got to see the guy come—over and over and it was _worth_ the money even if he wasn’t watching anyone else. He almost felt like a creep, doing this, watching the guy’s hips flex and his hand tighten around his cock, but… but that was the point of the webcam, right? He didn’t _have_ to feel guilty because it was there to be watched. Right? Right.

 

            Steve swallowed as he watched those fingers tug gently at the piercing, heard him gasp, and his own stomach muscles jumped. _He_ wanted to do that to someone, _anyone_ , with a piercing. He wanted to know what it was like to slide his tongue over the cool of the metal and then the heat of his cock. He wanted to taste the difference and lick come from the ball in the middle of the hoop.

 

            It was after Steve had spilled all over his hand that he felt confident enough to comment. This was the first video he had watched where the guy had played with the ring, and Steve wanted _more_ of that. Granted, he doubted the comment would even be read. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of comments and Steve was sure his own would get buried, so the chance of it being read was slim (he hoped).

 

            After cleaning his hands, Steve watched that fucking cursor blink at him until his fingers finally started to move.

 

            xYourPrettyBoyx: _I wonder what that piercing would feel like in the back of my throat?_

 

            Steve pressed enter before he could psych himself out and exited the page. His cock was already twitching in interest at just the _thought_ of the guy’s piercing sliding down his throat, so deep it made him gag, and Steve groaned. _Fuck_.

 

***

 

 

            Steve _didn’t_ sign on later that day just to see if the guy responded. He _didn’t_.

 

            Okay, so maybe he _did_ , but he hadn’t expected a response.

 

            Yet, there was a little pop up notification on his feed, a white exclamation point circled in red. He clicked it and wondered if he could come untouched.

 

            xNotYourPrincex: @xYourPrettyBoyx _why don’t u cum find out for urself ; )_

 

            It should bother Steve that the guy used chat speak. It should bother him that it wasn’t grammatically correct. It should bother him that he used such a terrible fucking pun.

 

            But it didn’t.

 

 

***

 

  
            Steve hadn’t seen Billy in a couple of days, which wasn’t strange. Their schedules were different. Steve preferred morning classes and Billy preferred to sleep in. Steve didn’t party, but Billy did (and somehow stayed on the god damn dean’s list). Naturally, it was a little surprising to walk into the room and find Billy propped up on his bed, laptop off to the side and a book wedged between his thighs. A pen hung out of his mouth, the tip of the cap chewed most of the way through.

 

            He was wearing his normal get up—ridiculously torn jeans (seriously, do they just _come_ like that?) and a faded Rob Zombie t-shirt. His hair was down, though, tight ringlets falling over his shoulders, his jaw, and his throat. Steve found himself staring, and when he finally caught Billy’s eyes, those blues were clear and _aware_ , focused on him.

 

            “I--uh--“ _eloquent_. Steve ran a hand over his face and dropped his bag on his desk. “Don’t you have class?”

 

            “Canceled,” Billy replied around his pen and Steve could feel his eyes tracking his movement. He pulled his chair out and sat down. “Why? You got plans, Harrington?”

 

            “I told you. You can call me Steve. What are you, forty?” Steve shot him an exasperated look and opened his laptop.

 

            “Yeah? Would pretty boy work for you?”

 

            Steve startled and looked over at Billy. His own eyes had gone wide and his heart had flipped. He couldn’t—Billy couldn’t—know, right? That would be stupid. Would be impossible. Out of hundreds of thousands of websites, there was _no feasible_ way he knew about Steve’s membership and—and—he was just being _paranoid_.

 

            “No, it wouldn’t,” Steve turned back to his screen and ignored the flush on his cheeks. “It’s _Steve_.”

 

            “Okay, Stevie. Whatever you say.”

 

            Steve would have snapped a pencil if he had been holding one. He held still as Billy stood from the bed and then felt the heat of his body, _close_ , against his own. One of those hands slid over to Steve’s keyboard and he noticed the gunmetal-colored ring on his middle finger, glinting under the room’s shitty florescent lighting.

 

            “You should probably exit all of your browsers before opening them in front of people,” Billy purred, far too close to his ear, and Steve glanced up at his screen again. It wasn’t the one on display, but the one _next_ to it was definitely _that one_ and _fuckfuckfuck_.

 

            “Jealous?” Steve bit out and Billy laughed. _Laughed_.

 

            “What do I have to be jealous of?”

 

            Billy had a point and Steve _hated_ it. “Fuck off.”

 

            “Mm. Looks like you already are,” Billy ruffled his hair— _his fucking hair_ —and walked back to his bed to plop down and continue reading his book.

 

            Not for the second, or third time, Steve wanted to kill Billy Hargrove.

 

***

 

 

            Thank god for Thanksgiving break. Even if Steve _had_ to deal with his relatives, he still had time alone, and after enduring inevitable round of inappropriately invasive questions, he _needed_ it. Secluded in his room around midnight, Steve finally checked to see if his favorite camboy had updated.

 

            He had. Jesus fuck, he had.

 

            Steve clicked on the video and blinked. Holy _shit_. The little Live! button was blinking at the top of the video and Steve—Steve was watching him _live_. He slumped back against his headboard, his brain firing too much and not enough as he watched the guy adjust on his bed. His legs were parted already, his hand squeezing around his cock. The glint of the piercing was there, and Steve didn’t want to think _too far_ into it, but ever since his comment, those fingers had played more with the piercing, tugging and slicking come over it. As if he was doing it for Steve.

 

            Little messages were popping up—posts about the guy’s abs, his thighs, his cock, the piercing. Some were more vulgar than others, and Steve wanted to join in, but he couldn’t look away from the hand that had begun to stroke up and down, the thumb that ticked at the piercing and forced it to flip over. He watched as the guy’s chest stuttered with a sharp breath and he swallowed.

 

            It was only a moment later that Steve noticed another glint, another piece of metal—but this was on the guy’s hand. A ring. He stared at it, and his brain made a useless attempt to connect the ring to something, _anything_ , but then the guy was _moaning_. He hadn’t done that before, and the noise startled him. He mashed the ‘down’ button for sound on his laptop and blew out a breath. Instead of just using his imagination, though, Steve shifted his laptop off to the side and rummaged through his backpack until he found his headphones.

 

            Once they were plugged in, Steve bit his lower lip and eased the volume back up. The voice was low and husky, just like he thought it would be. He undid his jeans and pushed a hand below his briefs. His own breath caught as he began the long slide of his hand over his cock, squeezing near the tip before dropping again. There was a glow this time around, and Steve figured it was from the guy’s camera or his laptop, which sparked something deep in his gut.

 

            Reluctantly, Steve let go of his cock to move his hands to his keyboard.

 

            xYourPrettyBoyx: _I want your dick so badly_.

 

            Steve pressed ‘submit’ and leaned back to watch. His eyes widened as the guy stopped, as his chest shook with his laughter. There were so many messages, so he wasn’t sure which he was laughing at, but he _liked_ it. That hand stayed on his cock, but by the way his muscles moved, Steve could tell he was responding on a keyboard.

 

            xNotYourPrincex: @xYourPrettyBoyx _really? How bad? U touchin urself?_

 

            xYourPrettyBoyx: _Yes. And bad. With you_.

 

            xNotYourPrincex: @xYourPrettyBoyx _careful what u wish for_

 

            It was Steve’s turn to laugh this time, but his cock throbbed against his stomach and he _knew_ he needed to get off or he’d be paying for it later. It didn’t help that _he_ was the one the guy was responding to—despite the cries and the ‘who the hell is pretty boy!?’ going on in the chatroom. It was _him_. Wanting to goad more responses, to show off the strange connection between them, Steve began typing again.

 

            xYourPrettyBoyx: _Come for me?_

 

            xNotYourPrincex: @xYourPrettyBoyx _always ; )_

            Steve settled back against the headboard again and began to stroke himself, long pulls and drags that had his breath hitching. He bit his lower lip when he knew he was close, but kept his eyes open so he could watch the guy get off. He watched as his come dripped and spilled over his stomach and his fingers, coating the ring and the hoop. Steve really, _desperately_ , wanted to lick his come off, to clean his jewelry. The thought sent him over and his head kicked back against the headboard, his back arching as he came into his palm.

 

***

 

 

            The haul to Christmas break was long and Steve had _five fucking finals_. He was sure his hair was going to just stay stuck straight up from all the frustrated pulling. One of his professors had decided it was necessary to give an exam the _day_ before break. His other professors had scheduled them earlier, claiming ‘time for travel,’ and he loved that. The professor who had scheduled his on the last day was fucking _Satan_ and Steve was sure of it. Absolutely, one fucking hundred percent sure.

 

            Two weeks. Two weeks of finals and studying and avoiding Billy Hargrove because the guy was walking sex and Steve barely had time to _sleep_ much less touch himself. The camboy he followed hadn’t updated, either, and Steve didn’t bother thinking about why— _couldn’t_. He was too deep in papers and readings and _statistics_. Fuck statistics.

 

            Dustin would be laughing his head off if he knew how much Steve was inner-monologuing and cussing at the same time. _Language_ swirled around in his head and a headache began to pulse behind his eyes as he shoved the door open to his dorm building. Whoever thought it was necessary for there to be papers _and_ tests for finals was fucking (language!) crazy. He apologized as he bumped into some random person, holding his hands up before he made his way to the stairwell. He never took the elevator simply because he could use the exercise (but really he was just procrastinating seeing Billy at this point).

 

            It didn’t take Steve as long as he’d like to get to his dorm room, stairs and all. When he reached the door, it was unlocked, so he figured Billy was there. It had been a couple of days since they had seen each other, and Steve had been… _okay_ with that. He had needed it, so maybe his body wouldn’t go into hyper-awareness mode. After pushing the door open, Steve stepped in and dropped his bag to the side by his desk.

 

            “My profess—” Steve choked on his words and stared at Billy, who was sprawled out on his bed, cock in his fist. Some of his hair had fallen out of his bun, messy and slick against his forehead and his throat from sweat. Steve’s grip on the doorknob tightened and he was sure his eyes were popping out of his head. He couldn’t help looking, though, even as Billy pushed up onto his elbows.

 

            “Coulda knocked,” Billy licked his lips and Steve heard the click of his tongue piercing against his teeth.

 

            “Could have— _what_ —” Steve looked up at his face finally and he was pretty sure _he_ was the one making the squeaking noise. “You could have locked the door!”

 

            “Aw, Stevie,” Billy still hadn’t taken his hand off his dick and Steve felt like his blue eyes were boring holes into his face. “You dick-shy?”

 

            “I—I—” Steve sputtered and grabbed uselessly at his backpack.

 

            “Wanna help?” Billy stroked his hand up along his dick and Steve’s eyes dropped to watch. “Huh, _pretty boy_?”

 

            “Fuck you!” Steve yanked his bag up and slammed the door shut behind him. His heart raced and his head felt like it was full of cotton as he heard Billy laugh beyond the door. The tightness in his jeans as he stormed down the stairwell added to his frustration. It had been too long since he touched himself, he reasoned, his feet moving before his mind could set a destination. Too long. That was why he had gotten hard at the sight of it. That was why, when he caught sight of Billy’s hand moving, his breath left him in a rush.  
  


            It wasn’t until he was standing in front of the library that he realized something startling: Billy was _pierced_. Billy had a Prince Albert piercing and a hoop around the tip of his dick.

 

            Steve needed a drink. Scratch that— _a lot_ of drinks.

 

***

 

 

            Steve spent the next two weeks avoiding Billy completely, too embarrassed to face him. He completed his papers and finals and _lived_ at the library until it was time to pack and go home. Even then, Billy was thankfully out of sight.

 

            Out of sight, out of mind, right?

 

***

 

 

            During the first couple days of break, Steve’s curiosity got the better of him. He watched old videos of xNotYourPrincex. He watched the newer ones. He looked at his hands, his cock, his stomach, and tried to see differences between _him_ and Billy. There had to be. How the fuck could he stumble across _Billy_ on a webcam site? Not to mention, Billy was a god damned hipster who preferred books over a Kindle or a tablet. There was _no way_.

 

            Right?

 

***

 

 

            On the fifth day of break, Steve unlocked his phone and mindlessly began to wander through social media, but he was distracted. He could just ask Billy over Instagram or Snapchat and get it over with. Yet, he didn’t want to get socked in the face when they got back to school or… or called out for _knowing_ about the site or having a _membership_.

 

            Steve dropped his head back against the couch and groaned.

 

            “Something wrong, Steven?” His mom called from the kitchen and Steve wanted to throw his phone against the wall.

 

            “No! God damn.”

 

            “Watch your language!”

 

            “ _Jesus_.”

 

            “STEVEN.”

 

            “Sorry, mom!”

 

***

 

 

            Ten days into break, Steve notices a new video under xNotYourPrincex’s page. He tucks himself closer to his headboard and plugs in his earphones. His phone is left forgotten at his side as he clicks on the video. The title throws him off. Usually, it’s something basic. This time? It’s “For You,” and Steve’s heart thuds against his chest. It was ridiculous, really, because that could be _anyone_ —hell, it could be his whole fucking fanbase (who were STILL angry about him responding to Steve several times, but no one else more than once, if that).

 

            The video starts with the guy leaning back against a chair, the camera angled down at his stomach and his cock. His hand was already circled around the base and moving, slow and steady, to the tip, before dropping again. Steve swallowed and slipped his hand below the waistband of his sweatpants. He stroked himself in the same pattern, matching the way those fingers moved so sure. He imagined those hands touching him, tugging and grabbing and _pulling_. His hips rolled forward and he fought not to close his eyes.

 

            Of course, Steve noticed the ring on his hand, the glint against the light, and he stopped his brain from comparing it to Billy’s. He had wasted days on worrying about it, thinking about it, and he just _couldn’t_ anymore. He needed this release, needed to believe it was _for him_ , that it wasn’t _bullshit_ (because Steve was used to being called bullshit, being treated like bullshit, so this, even if it was over the _internet_ , made him feel _wanted_ ). He used his free hand to press his headphones in further, listening to the tiny gasps and grunts, the muffled groans.

 

            Steve wanted to hear him let go. He never did in his videos, always restrained and controlled. Maybe that was part of the reason Steve liked it so much. He would _love_ to have someone so fucking confident in themselves over him, on top of him, _in_ him. His own moan slipped past his lips, escaping him, and he clenched his jaw shut to keep himself from being too loud.

 

            Then, then the guy _talked_.

 

            “For you, pretty boy,” he purred, and Steve’s hand fucking _froze_. When the guy—the guy—it had to be Billy—it fucking _had to be_ —when he came, he moaned, loud and unabashed, and Steve gasped as he joined him, shock and pleasure hitting his system in a way that left him breathless and whining.

 

            It only confirmed it when the guy moved. He shifted in front of the camera and dipped down just enough for his lips, jaw, and a few golden curls to spill over and along his shoulders. That smirk spread over his face, teeth white and canines sharp.

 

            “For _you_ , pretty boy,” he repeated, low and smooth, as he brought his fingers to his lips and _licked_ his come from them. He popped his fingers into his mouth, sucked, and dragged them out. Steve heard laughter before the video shut off and he was going to _kill Billy fucking Hargrove_.

 

***

 

 

            Day twelve is when Steve managed to gather enough courage to Snap Billy. He didn’t bother with a picture or a video. He opened chat and swallowed down the panic that kept trying to crawl up his throat. He clicked on the apt name ‘Dickhead’ on his snap list and began typing.

 

            SH: What. The. Fuck.

 

            Dickhead: evening to u too

 

            SH: Was that video really for me? Because if not, and this is some god damned hoax, I swear, Billy

 

            Dickhead: finally caught on?

 

            SH: Caught on? Seriously?

 

            Dickhead: hahaha

 

            SH: This shit is NOT funny, Billy!

 

            Steve had to remind himself that if he threw his phone, he couldn’t end the conversation. He breathed through his nose and pressed his back against the chair he was sitting in. His parents were already gone, leaving him in their huge fucking house _alone_.

 

            Dickhead: it really is

 

            SH: No. Billy. You don’t get it. It’s NOT.

 

            Dickhead: what’s got your panties in a twist, pretty boy?

 

            SH: This can’t be bullshit, Billy.

 

            It was a couple of minutes before Billy responded, and in those minutes, Steve felt like his chest was being carved out. Instead of a chat, though, the little box popped up and notified him that it was a video. The urge to open it was there, but he was also nervous as hell and sat there, staring at the notification on the top bar of his cellphone.

 

            Finally, Steve flicked the bar down and opened the video. He almost spat out his Coke and his nose burned as he watched. Billy was sprawled back on the dorm bed, shirtless, his jeans open to show the rigid lines of his cock. His hand was holding the phone and the other hand was—was stroking himself.

 

            “Does this look like bullshit, pretty boy? This’ll be waiting for you when you get back.” And that fucker rolled his hips, his abdomen muscles clenching and relaxing. His head dropped back, revealing a long line of throat. He changed the camera angle, bringing it so Steve could see him flick his tongue over his teeth and lower lip. “Not bullshit.”

 

            “Oh my fucking _god_ ,” Steve dropped his phone on the counter and buried his face into his hands.

 

***

 

 

            Steve may have created a monster, but maybe Billy was _already_ a monster and Steve was just now figuring it out.

 

            He… he couldn’t complain.

 

***

 

 

            On the thirteenth day of break, two days before Christmas, Billy sent Steve a picture of _just his dick_. It was fully erect, ring shining against the light, but a thick, red bow was tied around the base. Across the picture read, ‘wanna present?’

 

            This time, Steve did spit out his Coke.

 

***

 

 

            It was late Christmas Eve when Steve realized that Billy was at the _dorms_. He was at the dorms for Christmas, and Steve was alone in his parents’ house. What the hell was he _doing_?

 

            Fuck being alone on Christmas. He checked his watch, ran up the stairs two at a time, and threw his shit together.

 

            Because no matter how much of a dickhead Billy was, _no one_ deserved to be alone on Christmas.

 

            And, if Steve was honest with himself, he _really_ wanted to open that present, even if he knew what was under the bow.

 

***

 

 

            Getting a plane ticket on the day before Christmas was a bitch and a half, but he was a Harrington and he _knew_ how to use his resources when absolutely necessary. Besides, his parents had enough frequent flyer miles to last him _years_.

 

            The Lyft he took to the dorms didn’t move fast enough, but neither did the plane. All he could think about was Billy being alone. Both of them being alone. They didn’t _have_ to be, though, and for once, Steve took the stairs because he was fucking impatient and he wanted to see Billy _now_. He didn’t even bother with his suitcase, abandoning it at the bottom of the stairs (no one was here—who would mess with it?) so he could take them two at a time—just as he had at home.

 

            When Steve got to his floor, he slowed and raised an eyebrow. The music blasting out of their dorm was _obnoxious_ , but it was such a representation of Billy that it had his lips ticking up at the sides. He did hesitate long enough to run his fingers through his hair, to tuck it where he wanted it, to catch his breath so he didn’t look _that_ eager. His brain reared his anxieties, throwing shit at him from Nancy, _bullshit_ , like he had said to Billy over Snapchat, but he squashed it down. If Billy was spending Christmas at the dorms, Steve doubted he would mind a little company, especially given the videos and pictures he kept getting from him.

 

            Still, that anxiety ran beneath his skin like spiders, and it only got worse as he closed in on their room. The door was propped open and the smell of one of Billy’s herbal cigarettes wafted out towards him. It was ridiculous how just the familiarity of Billy made his muscles relax, forced his mind to slow as he leaned against the open frame of their room. Billy’s back was to the door, his cigarette held between his left middle and index finger, eyes on the screen of his laptop.

 

            Steve was ready to say something, anything, when he realized what Billy was playing. It was _his_ music, not Billy’s, and the lyrics of Chromeo’s “Needy Girl” drifted over him. He remembered Billy _teasing_ him about liking Chromeo and his other ‘shitty bands.’ Yet, here he was, Steve’s Spotify up and running in the background while Billy worked in Rhino. Steve could tell that he was enveloped in his work, the design of whatever he was making for class turned this way and that in the program.

 

            “I thought you hated Chromeo,” Steve broke into laughter as Billy jumped. His hand had jerked enough to throw his mouse and it clattered to the ground near Steve’s bed. When he turned, wide-eyed and shocked, Steve’s laughter calmed and he grinned. For once, he felt like _he_ had the upper hand. “Caught red handed, man.”

 

            “What—what are you—I thought—” Billy blinked at him and stood. Steve’s heart thumped hard and quick against his chest, but he managed to stay relaxed, even with his arms crossed over his chest. It was impossible not to notice all of Billy’s muscles and the way they shifted under his clothing when he moved. It was _especially_ impossible not to watch him take a drag of his cigarette and set it in the ashtray off to the side.

 

            “I thought it was stupid that we were both alone for—” Steve’s voice began at his normal tone, but as Billy walked closer, it began to drop off, quieter and quieter until Billy was standing chest-to-chest with him. “—for Christmas.” The end came out in a breathy whisper and he knew Billy was watching him glance between his eyes and his lips. “You know smoking isn’t allowed in the dorms, right?”

 

            “You gonna do something about it?” Billy tipped his head and Steve could feel his breath over his cheek and lips. He could smell the herbs from his stupid Hipster cigarettes and he thought, _no, no I’m not_.

 

            “Maybe,” Steve moved just enough so that their lips barely touched, so that it was difficult to look into Billy’s eyes. He let his eyelids droop and he grinned. “Are you going to stop me?”

 

            “Pretty sure there’s _also_ a rule against fuckin’ your roommate, but you don’t seem too concerned about that,” Billy’s voice became smooth and low, and Steve could feel him talk against his lips, could hear the promise there.

 

            “Is that what we’re doing?” Steve kept his hands to himself as he waited for Billy’s response, as they shared what little oxygen was between them. “Because if—”

 

            “You talk too much,” Billy’s hand was on his jaw, a firm and solid grip, and then he was being tugged down. Their lips met and Steve’s arms dropped so that Billy could crowd his space. As their hips met, Steve gasped and Billy licked into his mouth. He tasted of the cigarettes he smoked and the cinnamon gum he was so fond of. Unable to _not_ touch, Steve reached forward and grasped Billy’s hips, matching the firmness of his grip. He returned the eager swipes of Billy’s tongue and tried not to fucking _melt_ when one of those hands, hands he had watched for _so fucking long_ , tangled into his hair and tug him forward.

 

            Steve almost stumbled as Billy led him into the room, their mouths not parting, even as Steve managed to kick at the corner of the door so that it closed with a bang. His breath left him in a strangled noise as Billy’s tongue piercing clicked over his teeth and dragged over his tongue. His thigh muscles almost gave in, but instead of allowing himself to go weak-kneed, he pressed Billy forward until he was trapped against the desk. Steve pushed a hand against the wood top while he sucked at that piercing, dragged his teeth just enough over it to encourage Billy forward into the kiss. The noise he heard, that low groan in Billy’s chest, made him dig his fingers deeper into his hip.

 

            Feeling the piercing along his tongue, along his teeth and the insides of his cheeks, reminded Steve of the one he _actually_ wanted to play with, to taste. He pulled back and was pleased to see that they were both out of breath and flushed. The blue in Billy’s eyes almost glittered, but was being quickly swallowed by his pupils, and those long lashes fluttered as Steve’s hand moved from his hip to the waistband of his University sweats.

 

            “I could get used to you wearing these,” Steve pressed their foreheads together and ran his fingertips over the obvious swell of Billy’s cock. He could feel how hot Billy was, how eager, even behind the thick cotton. It made his lips part and he watched Billy’s eyes flicker down.

 

            “What did you say, pretty boy?” Billy’s voice had an edge—a tease to it—and Steve licked his lips. “In the chatroom? That you wanted to feel the ring in the back of your throat?”

 

            “You remember that out of _all_ of the comments you get?” Steve replied and it would have sounded better if he wasn’t so fucking breathless. “Hundreds of people and _mine_ —”

 

            “Yours were the only ones that mattered,” as soon as Billy said it, a look crossed his face and it disappeared before Steve could place it, “it’s not like I haven’t thought about you sucking me off.”

 

            “Oh?” Steve dragged his teeth over his lower lip and watched how Billy’s eyes dropped to his mouth. “You’ve thought about me licking your piercing? About how far I can take you into my throat? How far the ring will—”

 

            “Jesus fuck, Steve,” Billy leaned forward and caught his lower lip between his teeth and Steve gasped. He felt a lick, then, covering the sting before Billy’s hips were rolling forward, his cock pressing against Steve’s palm. “Wanna feel your mouth.”

 

            “You have a bad habit of interrupting people,” Steve grinned, though, and stepped back so he could sink down to his knees in front of Billy. He hesitated, his fingers slipping over the drawstring of Billy’s sweats. His nerves had been fine, absolutely _fine_ , but now that he was kneeling, now that he could see the outline of Billy’s cock, he found himself stumbling. He could also feel Billy’s eyes on him, which didn’t help. “Billy, I’ve— _shit_ —I’ve never…”

 

            “It’s good. You’re good. Already good,” Billy already sounded winded and Steve looked up, surprised by that. Color crept into Billy’s cheeks, and it was enough to give Steve the courage to pull his sweats down just far enough to free his swelling cock.

 

            It was one thing to see Billy’s cock and the shiny piercing on video. It was completely different in person. Steve wasn’t even sure how. It just _was_. He slid his hand down, his fingers brushing Billy’s thigh, before he circled them around the base, thick, hard, and covered in silky skin. As he stroked his fingers up to the tip, his lips parted, and he gently slid his fingertips over the piercing. He heard Billy gasp, saw the way his abdomen muscles contracted, and felt another wave of confidence roll through him.

 

            “Is it really sensitive?” Steve looked up at Billy again, but he didn’t miss the bead of pre-come that began to swell near the tip, slicking along the ring.

 

            “D’you have to ask?” Billy’s hands gripped the desk, white-knuckled, and Steve chuckled.

 

            “I just did,” He leaned forward, then, and dipped his tongue over the head of Billy’s cock. The metallic bite of the ring against the skin and pre-come made him shudder. He slid his lips further down, felt the drag of the ring across his tongue as he dipped low and sucked. Billy’s hips stuttered forward and then stilled, and Steve could tell it took _effort_ not to rock forward. He knew the feeling, and his own cock throbbed against his jeans as he dragged his lips back up and then slid them down again.

 

            “Christ,” Billy hissed it out and Steve would have grinned if his mouth wasn’t full. He edged his lips down and saliva just below his tongue, slicking the way, until he finally felt the ring bump the back of his throat. He gagged almost immediately and pulled away, popping his lips from the head and gasping for breath. Billy chuckled, but then his fingers threaded through Steve’s hair and stroked along his scalp. “Y’okay?”

 

            “Y-yeah. Yeah. Fuck,” Steve licked his lips and swallowed the saliva in his mouth. “I’ll get better.”

 

            “Is that an offer, Steve?” Billy grinned down at him and Steve felt his skin heat from his chest to his neck.

 

            “Not the type to fuck and leave,” Steve tried to shrug, tried to make it as nonchalant as he could, but then Billy squatted down in front of him. Their eyes met and Steve felt, for a moment, that he could drown in the intensity of Billy’s gaze.

 

            “Good, because I have a possessive streak,” Billy kissed him again and Steve’s lips parted instantly. He wanted to feel that piercing across his tongue again, along the line of his teeth, and Billy didn’t disappoint. They kissed until they were breathless again, until Billy pulled him onto his feet and backed them up to his bed.

 

            When they broke apart, Billy sank back onto the bed and Steve stood over him. Steve felt a wave of uncertainty crash over him, and he guessed it showed on his face because Billy’s hands slid over his hips and the look he gave him was a cross between amusement and understanding.

 

            “We’ll go at your pace. Just tell me what you want,” Billy sounded earnest and genuinely _kind_ , the opposite of what Steve was used to. Teasing barbs and ridiculous puns, sure, but kindness like this? It wasn’t something he was used to. He felt his cheeks burn as he watched Billy, and instead of responding right away, he reached out and gently tugged the scrunchie from Billy’s hair. His curls tumbled around his shoulders and fell around his cheeks, and Steve thought that he looked like one of those statues in his Art History course—sculpted and strong-jawed with thick, curly hair.

 

            Billy called him pretty boy, but Steve wondered if Billy ever looked in the mirror. He tangled his fingers into the tight curls and was surprised by how soft they were, how easily they fell through his fingers. What surprised him more, though? Billy leaned _into_ his hand and his eyelids fluttered half-way closed, like a fucking cat that just got its milk. Steve sucked a slow breath through his nose and experimentally tugged. Billy grunted, a soft noise that made his cock twitch.

 

            “I want you to fuck me,” Steve tightened his grip in Billy’s hair and bent down so he could press their lips together. He sighed as Billy opened for him, surprisingly plaint, and licked into his mouth. He slid his tongue over Billy’s piercing, his teeth, and then backed off just enough to bite his lower lip. “But I want to sit in your lap.”

 

            “Sounds good, sweetheart,” Billy sounded _gentle_ and it took Steve’s breath away. Of all his impressions of Billy, _soft_ and _kind_ hadn’t made the list. It made him realize just how little he knew about him, and now he craved to know anything and everything about him. “Take your clothes off for me.”

 

            _For him_. Steve heard the way Billy’s voice dropped and felt his grip tighten on his hips before disappearing. Billy had mentioned being possessive, and with that would come a jealousy streak. Steve was _definitely_ okay with that. It felt good to be wanted. He stepped back and hesitated.

 

            “I wanna see you,” Billy’s hands curled in the blankets and Steve realized he was avoiding his eyes. He looked at him and saw hunger, raw and open. “Come on, Steve.”

 

            Steve nodded and toed his shoes off first. He shrugged his jacket off and dumped it over the desk chair. Then, once again avoiding Billy’s eyes, he tugged his polo up and over his head. He heard Billy’s intake of breath and fumbled as he undid his belt and his jeans. Slowly, not to tease, but because he was nervous as fuck, Steve pushed his jeans and briefs down and shucked them. Finally, his socks joined the pile, and Steve felt so, _so_ exposed. He dropped his arms in front of himself and swallowed down the sourness in his mouth.

 

            “You’re gorgeous,” Billy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, but he laughed, and he _might_ have sounded a bit doubtful. “No, you are. And you’re mine, yeah?” The question forced Steve’s head to snap up so he could look at Billy. He was being looked at, almost reverently, as if Billy had been _waiting_ to see—

 

            “Have you…? Billy, have you had a crush on me?” Steve stared at Billy and watched his cheeks color. Then, Billy smirked and licked his lips. The clink of his piercing hitting his teeth made Steve shiver.

 

            “Maybe,” Billy’s smirk widened as Steve stepped closer. “Probably,” Steve stepped closer again and watched as Billy’s chest stuttered along with his shaky breath. “Most definitely. Come _here_.”

 

            “I still can’t believe that,” Steve admitted as he edged forward. “You have all of those fans. All of those people watching—”

 

            “Pays for college and I like the attention,” Billy licked his lips. “And it got _your_ attention, didn’t it?”

 

            “Fuck yes, it did,” Steve paused in front of Billy and scoffed. “If I’m naked, you’re getting naked.” He shook his head and then laughed as Billy grabbed the backs of his thighs and tugged him forward. He toppled into Billy’s lap and couldn’t help the grin on his face, too amused by the whole thing (even if Billy was _still fucking clothed_ ).

 

            “Just gonna appreciate this for a minute,” Billy’s words washed over Steve, an almost warmth building in his gut, “Christ, Steve. Who knew you were huge?” And the warmth was suddenly gone. Steve snorted and then laughed again.

 

            “You have the nerve to tell me I talk too much,” Steve shoved his hand against Billy’s chest and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

            “Ridiculously handsome, right?” Billy grinned and Steve was torn between hitting and kissing him.

 

            “Mm, maybe,” Steve relaxed as Billy threaded his fingers through his hair. When he tugged, Steve gasped, ready to retaliate, but then Billy’s lips and tongue were on his throat. He felt the piercing slide over his skin, followed by teeth, and his hand curled tightly into Billy’s shirt. “Okay—maybe—probably—” As Billy bit down and sucked, Steve moaned and rut forward, grinding his hips against Billy’s. “ _Definitely_.”

 

            Steve heard Billy laugh and decided that he liked that sound, the low huskiness of it deep in Billy’s chest. He dropped his hands to the hem of Billy’s t-shirt and tugged upward. “Off,” he insisted, and _finally_ , Billy gave in, raising his arms so Steve could tug the shirt up and over his head. He tossed it to the floor and sat back to look over his chest and stomach.

 

            “You ever think about piercing these?” Steve reached forward to pinch Billy’s nipples and laughed as Billy batted his hands away.

 

            “You wish,” Billy snorted at him, actually _snorted_ , and Steve wiggled back just enough so that he could dip down and drag his tongue over one of his nipples. The startled noise that Billy made was addicting. He licked over him again and then grazed his teeth over the hardening nub. “ _Fine_. I’ll think about it.” Steve laughed again and sat up.

 

            “Don’t do it if you don’t want to. I just—you have all these other piercings. I’m just… surprised you don’t have ones to match.” Steve blew over the wetness he left with his tongue and felt Billy’s hips buck against him. “And you’re… you’re so sensitive already. Can you imagine…?”

 

            “Fucking insatiable, Steve,” Billy groused at him and Steve had to agree. He _was_. When he looked at Billy’s face, he didn’t see anything but hunger, though. He had feared seeing something close to annoyance, but there wasn’t any of that. Billy watched him like he was a damned meal and Steve was _so_ good with that.

 

            “Told you I wanted you,” Steve cupped Billy’s jaw them, stubble rough against his fingers, and leaned down to press their mouths together. He felt Billy’s tongue against his lips, refused to open until that piercing clicked just past his lips and along his teeth. He sighed into Billy’s mouth as his own was explored and began to squirm. His cock pulsed against his stomach, a sharp reminder of what he wanted. “You got—we need lube, right?”

 

            “Think about who you’re talking to,” Billy mumbled against his lips and Steve laughed again. He had laughed more in the last five minutes than he had all week and it left him _warm_ inside. He ignored the alarm bells in his head and allowed Billy to shift forward. He grabbed onto Billy’s shoulders to keep himself from toppling backward and watched as Billy rummaged just below the bed. Billy’s free arm wrapped around his waist, keeping him safe and secure on his lap, and Steve fucking _melted_ into his chest. “See?” Billy wagged the bottle once he pulled it out from under the bed.

 

            “I see,” Steve drawled and reached down to pinch one of Billy’s nipples again. He grinned at Billy’s yelp and curse and nodded toward the bottle. “Are you going to use it or…?”

 

            “ _Brat_ ,” Billy didn’t sound irritated, though, the word coming out almost fondly. Steve watched him uncap the lube and slick up the fingers of his left hand.

 

            “Have I mentioned,” Steve mumbled and his heart picked up as those slick fingers disappeared out of view, Billy’s arm tucking around his waist. Billy’s other hand grasped his ass and spread him, and Steve shuddered when the slickness met his hole. “That I love that you’re left handed?”

 

            “Nope,” the ‘p’ popped out of Billy’s mouth and Steve tried not to squirm as one of his fingers brushed in circles around him, circling, _circling_ until _finally_ the digit dipped in. He held his breath and rested his forehead against Billy’s. As the finger pressed further and further in, Steve shuddered and tightened his hold on Billy’s shoulders. “Gotta breathe, pretty boy.”

 

            Steve could feel Billy chuckle, could feel how hard he was against his stomach, and at the suggestion, he managed to gasp down a breath. Billy murmured something like ‘ _good_ ’ at him as he worked his finger into his body. The stretch wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, but it was _weird_. He should feel embarrassed that he was panting against Billy’s lips, his cheek, but Billy didn’t move away, didn’t seem to mind. He sucked his own lower lip between his teeth and told his muscles to calm the fuck down as Billy began to rub the other slicked finger against the first.

 

            “Ready?” Billy tilted his head and nosed at Steve’s cheek, actually _nuzzled_ him, and Steve felt light headed. Not because of Billy’s finger, but because he was being so considerate, so patient, and Steve wondered if this was what it was like to be taken care of. When all he could do was whine a ‘uh-huh,’ out, Billy chuckled again. “Finally found the off button.” The words were low, teasing, as Billy nudged the second finger in next to the first.

 

            Steve retaliated by pinching one of Billy’s nipples, but it earned him a push and curl of Billy’s fingers and he whined louder. His cock twitched against his stomach and his hips rutted down. There was a definite burn there, a discomfort that made him squirm, but Billy dropped his lips to his jaw, his throat, and licked and then sucked, and suddenly it didn’t matter anymore. Steve’s nails slid over Billy’s shoulder, blunt but enough to leave marks, and Billy sucked harder.

 

            “More,” Steve didn’t mind the sting anymore. He couldn’t when Billy’s lips and teeth continued to travel over his throat. Each hot breath that ghosted over his skin made his back arch, and he had _no idea_ how feeling Billy breathe against him was more of a turn on than the biting, but it _was_. He dug his knees further into the mattress next to Billy’s hips and rolled his ass back against Billy’s fingers, eager—borderline demanding.

 

            “Hold on,” Billy huffed out a laugh against his neck, sending a shock of arousal up and down his spine. He felt Billy’s other hand wrap around his cock and squeeze. Steve moaned, bowing forward, almost overwhelmed by Billy’s hands. It wasn’t until the sting inside of him became more than annoying that Steve realized Billy was stroking him to distract from the burn of another finger. He shuddered helplessly in Billy’s lap and felt more like goo than human.

 

            Billy’s fingers stilled, a move that allowed Steve to get used to being stretched so much, so _good_. He remembered Billy’s earlier instruction to breathe and did just that—slow breaths in and out until the burn was barely there. It helped that Billy’s other hand continued to drag over his cock, from base to tip, and then down again. When pleasure began to spark again at the bottom of his spine, Steve pivoted his hips back and groaned. Neither of them spoke as Steve continued to roll his hips back, fucking himself on Billy’s fingers. It only lasted a couple of minutes, though. The more Steve moved and the louder he whimpered, the more rigid Billy went beneath him, tight, as if ready to pounce.

 

            “Steve,” Billy’s voice was strained and low, and he could hear the _want_ in it. “Now?” He didn’t say please, but Steve heard it.

 

            “Now,” Steve agreed breathlessly. He gasped as Billy eased his fingers out and felt _empty_. “Please, Billy. I want—”

 

            “I got you, sweetheart. Sit up for a second,” Billy patted his hip and Steve leaned up just enough so that Billy’s sweatpants could be shucked and thrown to the ground. Steve heard the cap of the lube being opened again, and it drew his eyes back to Billy and then down to his cock. He watched, almost in awe, as Billy slicked himself up. Steve _wanted_ to feel Billy spread him open, to feel that piercing drag where his fingers had been.

 

            “Ready for me?” Steve grinned and then laughed at the expression on Billy’s face—half scandalized, half _are you fucking kidding me?_ Instead of responding, Billy grabbed his hips and yanked him forward. Steve felt his slick cock against his thighs and then his ass. The thickness pressed between his cheeks and knowing that Billy would be _inside_ of him sent a thrill through his body. Steve reached back, his back arched so he could grasp Billy’s cock and press the head against his hole.

 

            Slowly, carefully, Steve sank down. He pressed his fingers just below the head of Billy’s cock to keep him angled just right, and in seconds (but what felt like _too, too long_ ), Steve popped the head of his cock past that tight ring of muscle. Billy grunted below him, a soft noise that egged Steve on, that helped him sink low, _low, low_ until the stretch burned. He squeezed his eyes shut and whined as Billy took hold of his hips and stilled him.

 

            “Gonna hurt yourself,” Billy’s voice was thick, but the concern laced just below it forced Steve to open his eyes. He looked down at him and, for a moment, couldn’t believe that he was almost all the way seated in Billy Hargrove’s lap on Christmas. Despite the burn, the ache in his ass, he knew that this was _definitely_ the best present he had gotten in a long while.

 

            “I’m fine,” Steve took a steady breath and let himself ease the rest of the way down. Being stretched like this, with the added sting and burn, made him forget to concentrate on the ring that slid along his insides. Now that he was completely seated and slowly growing used to feeling so full, he _could_ feel the ring and he _liked_ it. He could also hear Billy’s panted breaths, the feel of his fingers tightening over his hips, the stroke of his thumbs up and down his skin.

 

            “You _are_ pretty fine,” Billy purred it out and Steve laughed. It dissolved into a whine as Billy rolled his hips forward, his cock digging deeper. Steve almost pinched him, but decided on ducking his head to sink his teeth into his throat, instead. Billy moaned, low and somewhat surprised, so Steve sucked until he knew it would leave a mark. “ _Steve_.” He could hear the warning there and licked over the mark.

 

            “Billy,” Steve grinned and then leaned forward to settle most of his weight into his knees. He braced his hands over Billy’s shoulders and looked at him. Those blue eyes were dark, eaten up by the black of his pupils, and he could see a hint of a flush underneath the tan skin of his cheeks. He looked _good_ like this, edible, and it spurred Steve on to start moving.

 

            Steve started slowly and used his thighs to pull himself up and sink down. Billy gasped below him and Steve wished he had enough control over his thoughts to tease him, to demand more sounds, but all he could manage was the unsteady movements of his hips. His right hand slipped and he ended up wrapping his arm around Billy’s shoulder. He tangled his fingers of both hands together to steady himself and gasped against Billy’s hair as he started to _really_ move, pulling his hips up and then pushing them down. The slide of the ring made his toes curl, and every time he sank down, Billy’s cock brushed against his prostate and made him whimper.

 

            Steve’s hips rolled back and forth, short, almost erratic movements as pleasure mounted in his nerves and along his spine. Billy tightened his grip on his hips and helped him quicken the pace as he mouthed over his neck and collarbone. He bit and sucked at random, ramping up the heat that rolled through Steve’s body. It forced him to jerk his hips faster and breathe shallower between small pants and sharp whines.

 

            “Steve,” Billy’s voice was strained, enough that Steve pulled back to look down at him. “Can I…? Damn, I wanna fuck you.”

 

            As soon as Steve nodded, Billy was using those muscles that Steve had found himself admiring to flip them over. Steve wasn’t even sure where he landed in correlation to the pillow, the top of the bed, the side—he had no fucking idea. All he could see was Billy leaning over him, eyes so, so blue, lips parted, and his eyebrows pinched. He felt Billy’s hands just below his thighs and then his legs were pressed forward, knees nearly at his sides, and Billy moved.

 

            And _fuck_ , did he move.

 

            Steve latched onto Billy’s biceps, reveled in how they tensed beneath his hands, and then lost his ability to think as that thick cock inside of him slid almost entirely out before pushing back in. The rhythm was just shy of punishing. It forced air from Steve’s lungs with each thrust, made his back arch up and off the bed, and all he could do was scratch at Billy’s arms and moan his name when that ring and his cock pressed over his prostate.

 

            Billy had noticed when he touched just the right spot. Steve was sure of it because after his hips jerked and his lips fell open in a silent cry, Billy aimed to hit that spot _over and over again_ , relentlessly, driving Steve into absolutely fucking nothing and everything. He felt like bursting at the seams and sobbing all at once, but couldn’t quite reach either. The frustration of teetering on the edge made Steve whine Billy’s name, desperate, but he was pinned down in a way that didn’t allow him to move. He wanted _more_ and Steve realized, a second later, that he was begging and demanding more out loud in between breathless whimpers and gasps.

 

            “I need, Billy—I’m so close, I— _I need_ ,” Steve tried to open his thighs more, but Billy tightened his grip and kept him exactly where he wanted him. He almost growled in frustration and pressed his legs against Billy’s grip. “ _Billy_. Stop _teasing_ me!”

 

            Billy laughed, but it was just as breathy as Steve’s voice, just as wound up. Those blue eyes flickered up, took him in, and then Billy’s tongue slid over his lower lip, piercing clicking against his teeth and shining beneath the dorm’s shitty lighting. Steve’s growl turned into a whine and he squirmed as much as he fucking could.

 

            “Magic word, pretty boy,” Billy pivoted his hips forward and Steve gasped. His head dropped back as the ring slid over his prostate, pulled back just enough to miss it, and then ran right back over him. He should have kicked Billy. Should have, but he was desperate to come and he could feel the small puddle of pre-come collecting on his stomach.

 

            “F-fuck you,” Steve bit out with no actual heat. Billy dragged back impossibly slow and rocked forward, shockingly soft in comparison to what he _had_ been doing—what Steve _wanted_. “N-no, Billy! Billy, _please_.” Immediately, Billy shoved forward, scooting Steve against the bed, closer to the wall, and he _knew_ he was leaving raised lines over Billy’s arms. Steve keened, loud and unabashed, and then fucking _unraveled_ as Billy let go of his leg and curled his fingers around his cock.

 

            Steve’s orgasm hit him hard enough to make him dizzy. He dug his fingers into Billy’s biceps and bowed into the pleasure. Breathing became impossible as pleasure exploded. Nerves burst and colors danced in front of his tightly shut eyes as he prattled Billy’s name.

 

            It wasn’t until after everything started to slowly come back together, that he started to feel his limbs again, that Steve realized how hard he was breathing and how warm and wet he felt where Billy was still buried. At some point, Billy had rest his stubbled cheek against Steve’s neck and stayed there, gasping along with him.

 

            “Christ, you’re perfect,” Billy’s lips touched his neck, his throat, and then his cheek. Steve blinked as his head began to work again. “Fucking perfect, Steve.”

 

            Steve laughed and then Billy kissed him. Their lips brushed and then their tongues met, and there was no rush, no fight for dominance. A lazy kiss to match how boneless Steve felt.

 

            “Merry Christmas, Billy,” Steve broke the kiss so he could bump their noses together. Billy’s eyes glittered and his lips pulled into a smile. It made something in Steve’s chest melt.

 

            “Merry fuckin’ Christmas, pretty boy.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on Tumblr @SaChanPwns :)
> 
> I LOVE comments/reviews/kudos. I literally feed off of these. Hahaha.
> 
> AND OF COURSE, a shout out to my beautiful beta, @usstrashbarge :)


End file.
